There is a shell rattle shaking
in my belly, awakening a glowing
vibration that swells like a fire and climbs
the spiraling stairway vining up
my spine. A dilating portal
shimmers a song of one
voice echoing a mirror of bells
that gently shatter the darkness
into fractals of emerald
water and singing stones.
I am the dreamer weaving
the story. I am the weaver
dreaming the fabric
that ripples through the silvery
spiderweb of consciousness.
The pattern explodes a thought
into a million memories that exist
in this moment. All time is now,
and every version is truth,
as we wander through this labyrinth of time.
~Suzette Winona Summers©